You lean back. I move to you; kiss your thighs; hands slide your smooth hot skin . . thumbs at your center, rolling soft flesh, kneading. Little thrills from your clit. Your head goes back . . all thought on the touches . . embracing the feelings . . Your hips lift; the flesh of your vulva moves more easily; lubricated with your passion. I lean to taste you. A finger tip presses your wrinkled rosebud . . wet from our dripping juices . . the tip enters. I hear your sigh . . tastes so so good.